A Poem

Rain falls,

     as do I to my knees

at the sudden sound of your passing.

You mumbled something under your breath

     and reached for some unseen item at the table

and that was it;

     slumped over in your chair unmoving,

a mere shadow of your former self:

     you were gone…

leaving only gloomy storm-clouds on my morning

     and an empty, aching void

where once beat and beat (for your love)

my heart.

(c) 2009 by L.A. Sherman